


Roll On

by Merfilly



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Challenge Response, M/M, Pre-Canon, Rare Pairing, War Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:11:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz is left at the outpost while Prime rolls out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roll On

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Roll On (Chinese Version)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/665614) by [d7b7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/d7b7/pseuds/d7b7)



"Ease down, Jazz. It's a simple run, and I'll be back before Megatron can get intel that I was gone," Optimus Prime told his spymaster. "No one else has the capabilities this supply run requires."

"Might well be that way, Prime, but I tell ya, my processor's ticking with something being off this time," Jazz replied, his tone belying the casual lean of his frame in the door of the office Prime was using in this outpost.

Optimus approached the smaller mech with a shake of his helm. "Leave the worries to 'Hide or Prowl, Jazz."

"They ain't here," Jazz pointed out. "So I have to."

His reply made the bigger mech chuckle. "I'll use the new signal band to keep you aware of my movements. It is no different than any other run I have made at any other supply outpost this past vorn."

"Hoping the Decepticreeps haven't picked up on it," Jazz said, before heaving a gust of air through his intakes. "You roll your big aft home safe, Prime, or I'll just have to take this rag tag bunch of militia mechs Blaster found and come get you, you hear?"

"Why am I not allowed to put this much emphasis on you leaving for missions far more dangerous?" Optimus asked in a mild voice.

"I'm no Prime, and I am sure as Pits not you," Jazz told him, a quick flare of his energy fields against the larger mech's to add to the depth of love in his voice. Optimus took that faith, that love, and added it to the well of inspiration. One day, he would fail, but until then, his mechs, especially those of his own command, kept him trying as hard as he could.

"No music contests with Blaster," the leader teased to lighten the spirit of his spymaster.

"I'd win anyway. That mech wouldn't know a smooth sound if it rolled up inside here."

`~`~`~`~`

Jazz sat by the encryption station, a softer expression on his faceplates as he listened to the message sent to him.

"What's the big mech have to say?" Blaster asked him, curious but not so rude as to hack the designated file.

"Says he hasn't seen wire or plate of the Decepticons, and he's on schedule." Jazz would admit that much. However, the data file embedded in it, carrying several samples of the music from the archives Optimus had recovered in addition to the supplies, was not going to be shared for some time.

It was such an Optimus thing to do, to think of a way to try and ease Jazz's worries by offering him songs to soothe his spark. Jazz thought that it had even almost worked, but he wouldn't fully settle until his Prime rolled back in.

`~`~`~`~`

"No update yet," Blaster said, trying to keep his vocalizer in a neutral pitch, but his optics were dim.

Jazz nodded, keeping his frame loose. "Too much to hope he'd avoid the 'Cons all the way. He'll get in touch as soon as he evades them, I bet."

Blaster's optics locked on that uncanny visor, then slowly nodded. "All the same, Jazz, and I know you're a little more experienced, but I think I'll send Steeljaw out to recon."

Jazz looked at the quiet encryption station, then back. "Won't hurt to be aware, if they trail him in." His processors kicked over all the possibilities imagined since Prime's departure, but it wouldn't do to display anything but full faith in their leader.

`~`~`~`~`

Blaster projected the scene Steeljaw had found for all to see, aware of the absolute quiet beside him from Jazz. The Spec Ops officer was noted for two things which were being the most easy-going mech possible and getting the job done, no matter what.

Right now, Blaster had it pretty well confirmed that the second part of Jazz's reputation was the reason no one ever tested Jazz's ability to be easy-going. The imagery of a battle site, with a piece of the battle deck discarded amidst the wreckage of a pair of Seekers was hard enough for any of the small outpost to take. Already, Blaster could feel the surges in energy fields as systems were checked and readied for battle.

"When do we leave?" one of the mechs, a local from the more primitive village near here, demanded.

::My advice, we don't.:: Jazz's words were tightly encrypted along Blaster's unbelieving comm frequency. ::He's not a prisoner. I... don't know where he is, but he won't lead them back, and only two Seekers were downed.::

::Could have been a duo,:: Blaster tried to argue back, but that was unlikely. Decepticons didn't trust well enough to divide things evenly. Odd numbers were preferred among the Seekers now, to prevent even splits in power.

::I suggest trusting in him.::

::Your call.:: Blaster turned his focus back out, away from the high-speed internal communications to the slower vocalizations. "We give Optimus Prime time to make his way back. The smallest of our scouts, most suited to staying hidden, will go out along likely approaches, to keep watch for him, and for the Decepticons."

As he handled his volunteers, Blaster noted Jazz slipped away, and wondered if the spymaster was going to heed his own advice, or go to find the Prime and lead him to safety.

`~`~`~`~`

Jazz, despite his worries, was certain he had analyzed the scene Steeljaw had recorded to the best of his ability. He was tense with anticipation of the next move in this little dance of hide and seek Prime had to be locked into, but he would only make it more difficult by joining any search efforts, when this outpost was supposed to be maintained at full strength.

The music file that Prime had sent to him was cued up almost without conscious thought, and Jazz pushed into the comfort of the rhythm, the flow of symmetrical tones, to await word.

`~`~`~`~`

"....zzzz....in....Ja...."

The staticky transmission was not the strongest, which let Jazz know the big mech had gone away from the outpost. However, the voice was unmistakeably Prime's and full of that bold strength that inspired so many.

"Here, Prime," he said, as Blaster adjusted the communication array, enhancing it.

"Knew you would be, old friend." Prime's voice came in clearer. "New schedule in the packet I encrypted, but needed to make certain it was received."

Jazz was willing to accept the stated excuse; it satisfied Blaster after all. Down deep, though, a small part of Jazz, or not so small, knew that Prime had wanted to hear his voice, to have that anchor.

Jazz hoped he could always be there to give it to his Prime.

"See ya when ya roll in, Prime," he answered, before they broke the connection.

`~`~`~`~`

As suspected, there had been a trine. Prime told the tale of having to dump all the supplies into subspace so he could utilize the battle deck. The militia at this post listened in fascination to the way Prime had dealt with the trio, before the battle deck had been in danger of being unusable for transport. That was why a piece had been left behind, and the fight had been broken off with one Seeker still in the air.

Unfortunately, breaking the Seeker's trine bonds had meant that Seeker was dogged in pursuit, until he had finally chased Prime into what he thought was advantageous ground for himself. By this time, the supplies were inside the trailer, and Prime had parked it in such a way to obscure that he was not with it, and outmaneuvered the pain-wracked seeker.

"Fortunately for us, he didn't call for help," Blaster commented.

Prime's optics dimmed. "If only he had still been capable of it," he said with that compassion he always shared. He did not feel guilt for surviving, but he did regret that his actions had made that last Seeker suffer so.

"Come on, Prime. Leave them to divide up supplies, so I can look at what we need to do with the battle deck," Jazz urged. 'We recovered the debris," he enticed, but between them, as their fields touched, was the real offer.

Prime was back safe in body, and now Jazz would set his Prime's spark at ease again.

No matter how the war rolled around them, that was a set protocol to be followed, and nothing could please Jazz more.


End file.
